


from mother to daughter (to mother to son)

by orphan_account



Series: Modern Kubo AU [6]
Category: Kubo and the Two Strings (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I just want them to be happy, Mother's Day, Mother-Son Relationship, Past Character Death, listen their mother-son relationship hurts me, offscreen OC death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's only a few days before Mother's Day, but something isn't right.





	1. i. a daughter's memory

**Author's Note:**

> Nico and I talked about this a long time ago. I didn't get to write it down until now.
> 
> But anyway, I like how it came out. Really, I think this is the only work that I'm proud of 100%.

Sariatu doesn’t remember her mother that much, for she died when she was only three years old. Still, there are some memories that she has of her mother, such as how she looked and how she acted. Her mother was a strong woman—if not physically, then mentally—but she was also kind, and took care of her daughter the best she could.

Along with her memories, Sariatu has a few pictures—taken back when her mother was still alive. Each year on Mother’s Day, she pulls them out and tries to remember the good times—the good memories she used to have of her family.

One day, Kubo notices his mother staring at a few pictures. He sits down next to her and sees one picture of a woman—in her middle ages, he believes—with black hair tied into a bun, eyes as blue as the sky, and olive skin. “Who is that?” he asks, looking back at his mother.

“That is your grandmother,” Sariatu replies happily.

Kubo stares at the picture before he asks, “What was Grandmother like?”

“She was a good mother,” Sariatu tells him. “She did her best to take care of me—and it was enough.” Sariatu thinks of the memories she has, before continuing, “Sometimes, my mother would persuade Father to go out on a family walk. We would go to the park, and I’d play in the fields while my parents sat underneath the trees, where the sun’s heat wouldn’t burn them. Then, Mother would sometimes pack food and we’d have a small picnic. Then, there were times where Mother would help me with my hair, since I had trouble combing it back then.” She smiles. “Sometimes we’d spend time together—just the two of us. During the day, she would sometimes make remarks about how the world was filled with bad people, but with bad people came the good ones as well. She then told me, ‘There will always be someone out there—someone who will make you feel warm and happy, when you’re cold and alone.’”

“What happened to Grandmother?” Kubo asks. There’s this weird feeling in his gut—as if he’s met his grandmother before, but he doesn’t fully remember.

“…she died when I was three years old,” Sariatu replies, frowning. “It was after giving birth to my sisters—I think it was from blood loss? I…I don’t remember.” _Nor do I want to,_ Sariatu adds the last part to herself. “I don’t have many memories of her because her time was cut so short, but…from what I know, Mother did her best and took care of me—and that’s all that matters.” _But that’s not the least of it,_ Sariatu thinks.

Sariatu then gathers up all of her pictures, but she notices something. One picture is missing—one that she vividly remembers as a picture of her and her mother spending time together.

“No,” she mutters as she starts looking around for it. “No, it can’t be gone – it _can’t!_ ”

“What’s gone, Mom?” Kubo’s voice is filled with concern. He wonders what could be wrong—what could cause his mother’s mood to change oh so quickly.

“There was – there was this picture of me and my mother, but it’s _not here_.” Her voice cracks as she utters the last phrase. She tries to regain her composure, but she knows one thing.

She’s lost another memory.


	2. ii. a mother's day gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i havent updated this since december fifth even though ive had this sitting in my drafts since december thirteenth. for shame

Days pass, and Sariatu still can’t find the picture. So, she gives up. She doesn’t say anything, but Kubo knows that his mother is still upset.

So, he continues to look for the picture. He searches many rooms throughout the house—his parents’ bedroom, the guest room, the living room, the laundry room, the kitchen and the dining room, the basement, the garage—but he can’t find anything. He doesn’t give up, though—and so, he heads to the attic.

The attic is a little dark, but it isn’t completely dark. A bit of light shines through the window, and Kubo sees a bunch of boxes stacked up. Each of the boxes are labeled with something—for example, the first box he spots is labeled ‘ _Old dishes and glasses._ ’

Then, Kubo notices a box with a label that says, ‘ _Photos._ ’ So, he goes over to the cardboard box and tries to open it. It isn’t easy, though—he wasn’t (and still isn’t) used to doing this type of thing without at least one of his parents helping him—but he manages to open the box.

Inside, there are many pictures—most of which are ones of his grandfather and grandmother from his father’s side—but there is one that stands out. It’s old and dusty—but it’s different from all the other pictures.

Kubo reaches in and pulls out the picture. He dusts it off, and he stares at it for a moment.

The picture is of a young girl—no older than three—with black hair reaching her shoulders, sitting on the ground while her mother sits in a rocking chair, and appears to be reading a story to her daughter.

Kubo notices that the mother in the picture looks exactly like his grandmother, while the young girl in the picture looks like his own mother if she were much younger. It’s then that he realizes that this is the picture that his mother lost.

At first, Kubo thinks of giving it back to his mother, but then he stops for a moment. _Maybe I could give this to Mom on Mother’s Day as a gift,_ he thinks. He carefully folds the picture and puts it in his pocket.

He leaves the attic and heads to his room. He searches for materials—and once he finds the materials he needs, he begins to make a hand-made photo frame.

Once he is done, he pulls the picture out of his pocket and unfolds it. He carefully places it into the frame, and then looks for wrapping paper.

* * *

Mother’s Day arrives. Sariatu is still upset about losing the picture since it contained such an important memory of her mother, but she tries to look on the bright side; she gets to spend time with her son.

Kubo quietly approaches his mother. His mother turns to him, and in a soft, quiet voice he says, “Happy Mother’s Day,” and he holds up his gift—wrapped up in light purple paper.

Sariatu looks at her son, then looks at the gift. She takes the gift and unwraps it. Her eyes widen once she sees what it is. “But I – I thought I lost…” she trails off, staring at the picture—still intact, even after all those years, with a new frame; made out of cardboard, bits of paper and ribbons. “How did you— _where_ did you find this?” she asks, looking back at Kubo.

“In the attic,” Kubo replies with a small smile. “You were so upset when you lost it, so after you stopped looking, I continued to search for it,” he continues, “When I first found it, I _was_ going to give it back to you, but then I decided to make it a gift instead.” He then makes a gesture to the picture frame. “I made it by myself, with the materials I could find.”

Tears spring into Sariatu’s eyes. Joy rushes through her as she hugs her son. “Thank you,” she says. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” Kubo says, hugging her back.

* * *

Despite all of the good events that had happened during the previous years, on the exact same day, there’s one thing that stands out this year.

She’ll relive the good memories and she’ll make sure her mother’s memory doesn’t die—that it will live on in her eldest daughter _and_ her grandson.

And she’ll make sure of it.


End file.
